Down in Flames
by fulltimereviewer
Summary: When Trent gets the chance to be big, what will he do to keep himself from going Down in Flames?
1. Prologue

An: Okay, this story has been on my mind for awhile.

**Down in Flames**

**Title:** Down in Flames

**Summary:** Trent gets an opportunity to be bigger than life itself, how will stop from going down in the flames of the hell they call "The Business".

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

**Pairings:** Begins with Trent/Gwen, a little Trent/Lindsay later on in the story.

**Warnings:** Mild language, Drug References, and Semi-Depressing Themes.

**fulltimereviewer: **My first time working with Trent, so I hope I do a good job. Enjoy.

_**Prologue**_

Two years ago I never thought I would be here, here in my very own hell. Two years ago, I was a boy a young innocent nineteen year-old boy that was filled with ambition, talent. Now, well now, I'm a washed up shell of a twenty-one year man, not a trace of ambition left in me. Talent gone too, as soon as the first needle entered my skin, as soon as I let in the first snort, as soon as I signed that contract. I wish I never met Chris McLean on that night two years ago. I wish I never left my town, my family, my girlfriend. I wish I could meet my daughter. I wish I could so much more than be the piece of shit that I am today.

So, let me tell you what happened exactly two years ago today. Let me relive what happened on that night that changed my life forever.

Let me relive the night before the drugs, the sex, the greed, the lies, and the deception.

_Let me relive the night before I began to go__** Down in Flames.**_

Okay Trent, don't be too nervous. It's just your first solo set; it's also the first time you've preformed in front of more than fifteen people. Just relax; it's just a small indie club. There are barely twenty people here. I walked up to the stage, one dim light on me. I squeezed my guitar and I felt the strings digging into my skin leaving their impressions. _Just relax, just relax I told myself; I was wrong to be relaxed. I should've been a warning, how tense I was, maybe it was life telling me I was about to send myself down a path that I would probably never return from._ I tilted the microphone towards me. "Hey everybody, my name's Trent," the few people that were there had their eyes plastered on me," this is my first time performing. So… here we go."

_I sung "Across the Universe", I never thought that that the lyrics that left my lips could be so false. "Nothing's gonna' change my world." The biggest lie I've ever told. _The small crowd sounded like an amphitheatre. _In fact, that was the first and last standing ovation that I ever received. _There was one man sitting in the corner of the club, he was smoking a cigar; which was strange, because everyone else in this place was either smoking a blunt or a cigarette. _I barely even knew what a "real" drug was two-years ago. Trust me, a little marijuana here and there was nothing compared to the heroin and experimental party drugs that I was now accustomed to._

I walked off the stage, and put my guitar, Lupe, in her case. _ Damn, How I loved that guitar. Had it since I was… fourteen. I even named 'er after my first summer love, Lupe Lopez. I met, fell in love with, and lost my virginity to her on my two-week vacation in Mexico. I wonder what happened to her. _I grabbed the case, and began to make my way out of the smoky club. "Hey, you! Kid that sounds like a star!" I stopped short. _I should have kept walking, I should have never turned around, I should have dismissed the comment as someone that was drunk, or high._ _But, I turned around._

I turned around to see the man, the same man that was smoking a cigar. I then noticed that he was even more out of place, he was wearing a button up shirt, and a tie; a loosened tie, but still a tie, and he had a jacket draped over his shoulder. He extended his hand out to me. _Kid, runaway now; leave while you still have some of your innocence._ I shook it. _ You just made a bond with a demon, the devil, Diablo. You can still confess and repent now. _We exchanged names and, he told me I had some 'real' star talent. _He told me that all I needed was a little polish; more like tarnishing, ruining, corrupting. _He handed me his card, and I gave him my number. Then, he told me that he would be in contact with me in days. _I thought that he was lying, but was I wrong._

I tucked his card in my pocket, without a thought. Several people had handed me cards and told me I had "Star Quality", I never thought of it has anything. I just played my guitar on the weekends and on Friday nights, and worked at the car shop during the week. I was just a regular guy, with a special talent; that's all. I strapped Lupe across me, and made sure she was tight. Then, I got on my motorcycle. _Man, I loved that motorcycle. A 1969 Trackmaster, my granddad left it to me in his will. I got it when I was eighteen. I spent every minute of the summer I graduated working on it. Making sure that every scratch buffed, every buff polished, every chip repainted. I rigged up the exhaust pipe for Gwen so it would be more eco-friendly. I even had the retro helmet that went along with it. Where is all that stuff now? Probably in someone's landfill, rotting away. _

I speed down the empty road, that was one of the pluses of living in a small town; no traffic after eight-thirty. I stopped at the small house that I called my home. _You know how every town has that one house that's always for sale. I saved up for years for that house. And well, that's the house that I bought with my girlfriend… Or well, know my ex-girlfriend and the mother of my child that I never met. But, living the life I've been living now, I probably have at least one child in every major city in the United State; and, three provinces in my native of Canada. _I opened the door to my house, everything was quiet and all was dark except for the faint blue glare coming from our bedroom, and the soft murmur of a laugh track. Gwen always was up watching old eighties and nineties sitcoms; Full House and Family Matters were her favorites. She loved them because of their quote "Unrealistic portrayal of the unattainable 'American' Dream". _I miss that about her; I miss actually having deep, intelligent conversations with women instead of just laying and leaving random gold-diggers and cheap prostitutes._

I sat Lupe in the corner of the room where she always went every night especially after performances. Gwen was sprawled out on top of the covers, and she still had her glasses on. I stripped down to my boxers and slid next to her. She stirred, and turned to me and placed her face into my chest and took a breath in. "You smell like smoke." She moaned her raspy voice raspier from sleeping. I gave her a grin. _I used to smile all the time when I was happy. And, I'm just not one to put on a fake smile._ She placed a trail of kisses up my neck, and twisted her fingers through my long hair. _That was the first thing to go, my thick dark hair. Chris made me cut it because it didn't fit with the "Adult Contemporary" image he was trying to give me. _I pulled her closer to me, and ran my hand along her pale skin. _I loved her milky-white skin, that's all I think about when I'm with the orange bimbos. I imagine that they're all my long-legged, pale, Canadian beauty._

She titled her head up, and molded her lips to mine. Her kisses always held a certain bite, or spunk just like her. Her tongue piercing was cold yet exciting, like her. I loved to run my hands through her short black hair that would sometimes be highlighted with colors that were out of the ordinary like: reds, blues, and purples. Gwen was a remarkable woman. _She was nothing like the girls that fluttered in and out of my bed now. They would never dream of having a personality, or having anything but bleach blonde extensions in their hair; that they swore up and down were real. I miss being with a real woman and not with girls with the mentality of a twelve year old stuck in a woman's body._ Gwen broke our kiss and ran her hands down my chest, I began to laugh for reason that I don't even know. _Correction, for reasons I didn't know, Note to past self: You can get a slight high from inhaling around you._ She smirked, "Trent, Why are you laughing so much? Are you high or something?" I laughed even harder, and then she giggled a little. _That was something else she rarely did. Gwen didn't giggle she either didn't laugh or she laughed until her sides were on fire. These girls now laugh at every third word you say. I hate it, I hate them._

I shrugged, "Maybe so, those people in that club were smoking like the world was going to end tomorrow." She smiled and wrapped her legs around mine. And, we just lay there. She asked me about the set, I told her that it went fine. We talked about the man that gave me his card. She asked me if he was legit. _I should've listened to her. _ I insisted that there was something different about his guy. He had a swagger, a charismatic impression about him that you just had to trust. Gwen just took my word for it, and she told me not to do anything stupid. _That advice fell upon deaf ears. Much like all of the advice that everyone's given me since the devil came into my life and pushed it down in flames._

I wiped the grease off of my hand and onto my jeans. _My "stylist", Mona-Liza, would kill me for kill me if I ever did anything like that now. But, at the point I am now, murder would be better than suicide._ Sweat poured from every pore, it had to be at least a hundred degrees outside, and then being underneath a car didn't make thing any better. I grabbed my shirt and wiped my face with it, did that feel better. I opened the door to ignite the car which was having the crack in its oil line fixed. The car sputtered for a second, and then started. I repaired that car in fifteen minutes; that was a new record for me, and I was proud of myself. _When was the last time I was actually proud of myself? _ I pulled the car around to the front, and handed the keys to the old lady who was the owner of the car. She gave me this slightly creepy wink and a twenty dollar tip. Yes! Somebody could have lunch with his girlfriend today. _I don't even remember the last time a two-person meal cost fewer than two-hundred dollars. I can't even remember the last time I paid for a meal at that._

I asked the boss if I could go to lunch early, he agreed since I was such a "great worker". I ran to the diner across the street that Gwen worked at. That diner held a lot of memories for us. In fact, that's where we first met when we were kids, where I asked her on a date for a first time, where we kissed for the first time, even where we were with each other for the first time. _I can't even remember where I met this 'girl' that I'm 'with' now._ I slowly opened the door to the diner so the bells wouldn't ring because; I knew how much those bells annoyed her. _ I used to be the nicest guy, right? _ I sat down in one of the old and worn booths with permanent marker doodles and declarations of love written all over the table. Everyone that lived around here called it the "Lover's Table".

Gwen saw me out of the corner of her eye, and sat next to me in the booth. "You're off early from work. Did Mr. Boss-Man get tired of you fixing everything?" She joked as she pulled her hair back into a ponytail. I laughed. Something on the table caught my attention. _**Trent Smith and Gwen Dale 4EVER! **_I nudged Gwen and pointed to the writing on the table. She smiled, and then began to laugh. "Isn't that from the 10th grade?" I chuckled and nodded. _I wish I could've kept that promise. Gwen I'm sorry._

Gwen grabbed some food from the back, and we ate every last bit of it. The burgers held the perfect amount of grease, the fries were just crispy enough, and the glass-bottled pops couldn't have been any cooler. _I used to eat like your average guy; now my diet consists of nothing but vodka, salads, and the daily snort of cocaine. Maybe that's why I've dropped twenty pounds._ I looked at the clock that had to be at least thirty years old, twelve fifty-five. I stood up, slapped the twenty bucks on the table, and began to hurriedly make my way back to the garage. "Trent! What am I supposed to do with this?" Gwen yelled from the other side of the road.

I shrugged "Get some paint!" I laughed, and made it back to the garage to punch-in with minutes to spare. _I wish I was still early to things instead of being late, because I needed a quick hit of something._ There weren't any cars around so. I decided to take a nap. The boss wouldn't be mad since we rarely have more than one customer a day.

I dreamed of a world clouded in smoke. Then, there would be flashes of light all over every few seconds and a white powder would rain from the sky, and then I started falling down into the pit of this earth; which was nothing but flames. _Looking back at this dream, it could be interpreted as a forewarning, or an epiphany. Why didn't I take this as a sign of my impending doom? Why didn't I trust my mind? Why did I have to be so damn naïve? _

I woke up to a slight vibrating in my pocket. I picked up the phone, and it was a US area code. It had to be the man from last night. _You don't have to answer that call just ignore it._ I answered the call. The phone call that changed my life forever. The phone call that sent my life down in flames.

_That sent me __**Down in Flames**__._

_An: So what do you guys think? Did I do a good job with Trent?_

_Give me your honest opinion._

_Best Wishes,_

_fulltimereviewer_

_**:)**_


	2. Chapter 1

An: Okay, this story has been on my mind for awhile.

**Down in Flames**

**Title:** Down in Flames

**Summary:** Trent gets an opportunity to be bigger than life itself, how will stop from going down in the flames of the hell they call "The Business".

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, but my ideas!

**Pairings:** Begins with Trent/Gwen, a little Trent/Lindsay later on in the story.

**Warnings:** Mild language, Drug References, Semi-Depressing Themes, Sexual references.

**fulltimereviewer: **I am really taking a shine to this story. It allows me to get some of my dark writing elements out that can't go into my other Family-Dramas. Enjoy.

* * *

_**Chapter One: Key to Hell**_

The wind whipped Gwen's hair into her face, as she quote "Captured the essence of the unseen parts of the world." She loved taking pictures of the abandoned areas on the outskirts of our town. _We would ride out here every Sunday morning and stay until all the church-goers return from services. When was the last time I even step foot in a church? Or even picked up a bible? _Gwen and I had our own private world out there. We were so far away from town that the only person that could possibly be watching us was God. And, he was probably ashamed of what we were doing out there. _Kid, you were being a saint compared to the things I'm doing now._

I rose from the rust oil drum I was sitting on. Gwen was still enthralled in taking pictures with her vintage Mir camera from the sixties. _That's another thing I loved about her, she was content with what she had. She didn't have to run out and get the newest anything, she loved vintage; just like I used to._ I crept up behind her, and wrapped my arms around her waist. She moaned slightly at my touch, I rubbed my fingertips against her bare skin. Goosebumps rose over the line of skin that I touched. Gwen turned around and quickly snapped a picture of me. She laughed, and told me to pose. I did. She began taking pictures, one flash after another._ I wish there was only one person taking pictures of me now._

She tilted her head to the side, and walked up to me. Gwen peeled my shirt off of my body, put her black Wayfarers on my face, and ruffled my hair before licking her palm and smoothing it back. She took a step back and looked at me critically. She grabbed a cigarette out of her purse, stuck it in my mouth, and lit it. "There, you look very James Dean, Rebel Without a Cause." I smiled. Gwen loved horror movies, but then she loved anything with classic movie actors like: Audrey Hepburn, Robert Redford, Doris Day, and James Dean. James Dean was her favorite; she said swore up and down that I was a reincarnation of the cinema star. _I wish I could still say that after the drugs and late nights have taken their toll on my body. _She took even more photos of me in character. She directed me to laugh in some, frown in some, she even tried to get me to pose stark nude for one. But, that's where I drew the line. _Don't ever let the goods be captured on film. I wish I followed that rule._

I took a drag on the cigarette, and put my shirt on. Gwen checked her watch; it was a quarter before twelve. So, we would be back in town before twelve if we left now. Gwen and I got on the restored bike, and left our private world. _I had no idea that would be the last time Gwen and I acted like kids: running, taking pictures, sneaking kisses, and staring at the clouds._ I rode slowly along the dirt roads, Gwen snaked her hands around my waist. I felt her breath against my neck; it was cool like her mint gum. _I missed her minty and slightly smoky breath. The girls I'm surrounded with reek of bubblegum, perfume, and booze. _Gwen's hands ran lower, and lower until they were in my crotch. I brought the pick to a stop, and let a potato truck turn. While we were stopped, I turned around and smiled a Gwen. She smirked and squeezed where her hands lie. I tensed up, Gwen gave a dry laugh. _That was probably the best sound I ever heard; her dry cynical laugh._

The sexual tension built between us as we got closer and closer to our house. When we got to our house, we couldn't keep our hands off of each other. But, Gwen had to follow through her "Pre-Loving" routine. _That's another thing I loved about Gwen she was never one for a clumsy, lust-filled romp. She loved romance, like a mushy girly-girl. That was probably the most girly thing about her._ She lit all nine of her black candles in our room, changed into her favorite midnight blue lace panties, shut the blinds, and turned out the lights.

_Moments like that make me wish I never changed. Those intimate purely romantic moments make me wish that I was still Trent Smith; and not Slater Smith._ Gwen laid her head against my chest, and I twirled my fingers in her hair. _Her thick black hair that curled when it got wet and always smelled like coffee, always._ "I love you." She mumbled into my skin, her warm breath making me feel like her love surrounded me like a blanket.

"I love you too." I whispered thinking that that would be one of the last times that I would say that to her face. _Gwen, I __**still **__love you. I still think of you and our daughter, our beautiful daughter every day. _

She looked up at me, and began to stroke my jaw. "What's wrong baby? You seem down." I sighed and sat up in bed. She followed suit, and she clutched the bed sheets to her chest. I looked over to the guitar next to the night stand, and then I looked back over to Gwen. I couldn't just tell her that I was leaving for L.A. the day after tomorrow, and that I didn't know when or if I was ever coming back. I reached over and grabbed the guitar. Okay Trent, just tell her. _No Trent, don't tell her, don't go._

"_Oh, I wish there was I better way to make you understand," _I began to strum at a mid-tempo making up an impromptu song_," but, I got asked to be the lead in a band." _Gwen smiled and started to burst with joy for me until she heard the next line. I slowed the tempo_, "See baby it's my dream, but—"_I couldn't tell her, at least not like this. _I used to be such a romantic. I still like to think that I am; deep, deep down in my heart._ I looked at Gwen's face, and caressed her jaw line. I couldn't ignore the look on her face, this warm, understanding look. I couldn't destroy that look with one of hurt.

I grabbed her shoulders, and looked deep into her eyes. "I… I… I got a call to meet with some music producers in Los Angeles," Gwen wrapped me in her warmest embrace, I gently pulled myself away from her," But, I… I…," I sighed," I don't know when I'll be coming back." _I sealed my fate with that, with those twenty-three words. _

Gwen pulled away from me, and clutched the white bed sheet tight enough to where I could see through it. She furrowed her brows, "You're… you're leaving?" She looked hurt, more than just hurt; she was I can't even describe how she looked to me. But, I knew I never wanted to see her like that again. _Don't worry; you'll see her like that again. Perhaps, even worse when you leave her alone with a baby, and a broken-heart._ She exhaled, pushed her hair back, and rubbed her temples. She looked back up at me, "You're serious aren't you?" I nodded hesitantly. Gwen then went on to ask me when I was leaving, I told her tomorrow I was leaving for Toronto, and the day after that I was leaving for L.A.

We didn't talk for the rest of the day. We didn't talk during dinner; we didn't talk when we watched our favorite movie _Rebel Without a Cause_. In fact, that was the movie that we saw on our first date on the drive-in theater's retro night. People in our town even said that we were a lot like Judy and Jim. We even went to bed without as much as an "I love you." to each other. We never did that. _You'll never do it again either._ I looked over to the clock; it was two in the morning. I looked over at Gwen, her back was turned towards me; so, I leaned to the other side. She was asleep.

I looked at her pillow. There was a huge wet spot, she cried herself to sleep. _That's just the first time you'll make her do that._ I squeezed my face with both of my hands and then ran them through my hair. I don't know if I can do this. Should I do this? I sighed, and laid back down. My stomach began doing flips and began tying itself in knots. I can't believe that I'm leaving my family, my hometown, the love of my life. But, it's for the best; right? I couldn't sleep for anything, so I watched the clock tick.

The ticking began to go back and forth like a metronome. I began to form a melody in my head, the harmonies and lyrics began to write themselves in my head. So, I quickly turned on the lamp on the bedside table and wrote down the notes on one page in my music journal, the lyrics on another page. My mind was starting to calm from the events of the past day or two. I tried to clear my head of everything and wrapped my arm around her waist. I inhaled and cherished the smell of coffee that lingered in her hair. I felt her cool, smooth skin. I kissed the small tattoo of a voodoo doll on the back of her neck. Before I went to sleep, I spent my time treasuring every essence that was Gwendolyn Autumn Dale.

"I love you." I whispered before going back to sleep. But, little did I know that she heard, and she responded.

"_**I love you too."**_

The four walls of the hotel room in Toronto were hauntingly lonely. There was no color to the walls; there wasn't even a cheesy watercolor picture from '94 hanging on the walls in an attempt to make the room feel homey. I lay in bed, alone. It was weird not having Gwen by my side. But, the only thing that gave me a little comfort was that she was in the same situation a hundred miles from here.

Just lying in that bed, I thought of one of my favorite songs that related to what was going on right now. "In Your Atmosphere" by John Mayer, that song is my life right now. _Yeah, but you are going to L.A anyway, you didn't steer clear. _I grabbed Lupe from her case, and began to play the song that was on my mind. I played it through, about three times until I noticed something different. I looked at Lupe's sound hole and I saw a small piece of paper sticking out.

Gently, I reached inside and retrieved the small piece of paper. I unfolded it; it was a note. A note from Gwen. I read the note over and over; at least sixty times. I felt warmer everytime I read it. She also included a picture of us at one of the many photo booths we've visited in our four, going on five, years of dating.

I thumbed over the picture she included. The picture was in black and white, we were both smiling in the first; making serious faces in the second, being goofy in the third, and we were kissing in the last photo. I smiled at the pictures and at the fact that Gwen drew little red hearts all over the edges and corners of the pictures. _That girl loved you so much. Why couldn't I just love her back then?_

I clutched the photo close to my chest and thought about Gwen and me. We went through so much together. We can bear this. Love conquers all, right? _Wrong._

* * *

An: I hope you enjoyed.

Best Wishes,

fulltimereviewer


	3. Chapter 2

**Down in Flames**

**Title:** Down in Flames

**Summary:** Trent gets an opportunity to be bigger than life itself, how will stop from going down in the flames of the hell they call "The Business".

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the Total Drama characters.

**Pairings:** Begins with Trent/Gwen, a little Trent/Lindsay later on in the story.

**Warnings:** Mild language, Drug References, and Sexual References and Humor.

**fulltimereviewer: **So Trent's finally heading to hell's gate, Los Angeles, and he meets the devil himself.

* * *

_**Chapter Two: Hell's Gate**_

I felt like a tramp among ladies sitting in the clean, sleek lobby of Hölle Studios. My dirty and worn checkered shoes were a prime example of how much I didn't belong here. Everyone else had shiny loafers, like the ones my dad would spend what seemed like hours shining every day. There was a peaceful silence here; the only thing that broke it was the occasional phone call and the constant trickling of the water feature next to the receptionist's desk. I was used to the constant racket of an auto shop; the clang and bang of tools against car parts. The receptionist took over half an hour to even notice I was there. _I could have seduced and slept with that receptionist in under thirty minutes now. _

"Mr. McLean will see you know." She hissed from between her perfectly even and straight teeth that were whiter than Gwen's thighs. I picked up my guitar, the handle slipped around in my sweaty palm. Flashing the receptionist an honest smile and not getting one in return only intensified my anxiety.

My heart began to beat faster and faster as the stairs creaked underneath my feet. I looked at the walls and saw the dozens of gold records. _You'll never get one of those. You'll be too strung out to even record a song after a while._

The office was nowhere as big as I anticipated. But, I guess everything is always bigger and better in your head. _Much like showbiz kid, not everything that glitters is gold. _I sat down in one of the chairs in front of Mr. McLean's massive desk. Behind that desk was a breath-taking view of the Hermosa Beach. Gwen would have loved to see that.

Even though isn't a fan of large crowds, she would get over it. Just the pictures that she could take there would be beyond amazing. Heck, we've never even been to a beach together. I can just imagine us running around like little kids just as we always did. Splashing in the water, laying in the sand people-watching, eating greasy beach food, and gazing at the sunset that is what Gwen and I would do and that would be the best day ever.

I looked around his office and saw tons of pictures lining a shelf. He was photographed with rappers, country singers, pop vocalists. _I have something in common with all of them._ Everything else in the office seemed to be normal. But, there was certain flair to it.

His desk legs were made from guitar necks and the lamp on the desk had a cymbal as a lamp shade. Which had to get ridiculously hot; I mean really, a metal lampshade? I guess you have to sacrifice functionality for style.

There was a small pick on his desk. I picked it up and realized what it really was. The glass pick from Toad McGee's infamous playing of his guitar underwater, which caused his untimely death. _I used to say that, that would be the worst way to die. Now, I wish I could die known as the stupid badass that attempted to play his electric guitar underwater and not the strung-out, ex-teen heartthrob, dead beat, one-album wonder dumbass. _

The pick was so smooth and cold in my hands. What it would be like to play with this. I looked around to make sure no one was coming. I sat the priceless pick down on the desk. Should I really do this? _Hell yeah kid, show them you have some "edge"._ Lupe's case seemed to be screaming my name. I succumbed to the urges of playing her. Taking Lupe's neck into my left hand and slowly picking up the pick with my right.

When the two things were in my hand, it was like giving a pyromaniac matches and lighter fluid. I was running around those strings creating chords and riffs I didn't even know I could play. The glass sounded so pure even on my simple acoustic guitar. The sounds sent this tingling all over my body. It was stronger than any pleasure than I had every felt; even stronger than being with Gwen. _Damn, Did I really think that playing with that pick was better than sex? That is a true artist._

"So, you have taken a liking to the Toad pick." My eyes flew wide open and I almost threw the pick back into its place. Chris laughed and sat in his huge seat across from me. He picked it up and began to twirl it in between his fingers as if it was a child's toy. Then, he did something that almost made me have a heart attack.

Mr. McLean spotted his trashcan on the other side of his office. He aimed and chunked the pick into it. When it landed at the bottom of the can it made a loud chink; sounding as if the glass broke. My eyes stretched to the size of saucers. He did nothing but laugh at me. "Wow, you really are from the boonies kid aren't 'cha?" I answered yes, rhetoric was never one of my strong points. _Yeah, you being a naïve lamb in a city of lions got you in trouble more time than I can count. _

"Do you honestly think that I would have the actual Toad pick sitting out?" I stayed silent this time. He sighed, and opened a drawer. It was filled to the brim with imitation Toad picks. "You see kid; I always put out one of these picks when I'm interviewing a possible client." I nodded and ran my hand over the hundreds of glass pieces. He placed his hand on my shoulder and began to walk me back to my seat. "Little brownnosers will stare at the pick until I come in here and will ask me three billion questions about it."

He sat on the desk and opened a bottle of whiskey that was sitting there. "But, a true rocker," he poured two glasses and handed me one," he'll make that guitar his bitch. Just like you did." _I never thought of Lupe as my bitch before that day, she was always like a first love. I respected her, I love her. She wasn't my bitch._

Taking a sip of the whiskey that he poured for me, I realized that I was drinking. Drinking was something that I rarely did, and if I did it was never hard liquor. Gwen and I experimented a few times in high school. We'd become mixologists in her parent's attic on their date nights. Our favorite mixture was lemon-lime soda, beer, and some lime. We even made the poor man's mojito – lemonade, a peppermint, and a sprig of vodka. But that was all. Nothing hard, nothing serious, all in good fun.

"So how long are you out here kid?" He asked me while taking his proper seat on the other side of the desk. I didn't know how to answer him. I only bought a one-way ticket. Just to L.A. I made no plan on how to get back.

I opened my mouth to reply. I cleared my throat to suppress the burning of the alcohol and to try to bring some moisture to my dry mouth. "Uh, I don't know; as long as you needed me sir." Wow, way to sound articulate Trent; great job with the "sir", now you look like a brownnosing kiss-ass. He chuckled and finished his almost full glass of whiskey in one gulp and poured a new one. He told me to call him Chris, no more of that sir shit. _I wish I could call him Sir. Shit now._

"So, I want you to be a star. I want you to be my star. You are talent. Pure, uncut, unpolished, backwoods, small town, talent is what you are. I want the whole world to see your talent kid. Is that what you want?" He asked me in this way that I couldn't figure out if he was complimenting or insulting me. I nodded. "Good, that's what I want to see. Now, the legal team is out today but did you want to get a contract drawn up tomorrow?"

Whoa. A contract? "Don't you think this is a little rushed?" He nodded and told me that things were fast paced there, in Hollywood. I don't know about being a contracted artist. I mean what will Gwen think? This isn't just one of those decisions that you make on a whim. "How about I sleep on it?" I asked him while running my hands over my hair. _That was my nervous habit, Gwen joked that my hair would fall out if I kept doing that. I would rather my hair fall out, than to wake up with chills and tweak all day long._

He looked me over, as if he was reconsidering his decision. As if I was a tougher cookie than he thought. "Well, kid you're smart. How about you come back here around nine tonight for Shawn's rap party?" I cocked my head to the side. "Shawn is a girl that I found in a cabaret. Her style was a little project-y, her voice was a little too old for the pop crowd, and her body wasn't quite tight enough." He pulled a picture of a slightly overweight dark skinned girl with a ponytail that was obviously not her hair and a butt that everyone would envy.

She looked perfectly fine, in fact she looked like Gwen's boss Rochelle. "So, I got her. Sent her to Eva the personal trainer; Dr. Jason Jonas the plastic surgeon to give her everything that Eva couldn't; to Harmoniez to lighten up her voice and to give her some rapping skill; and finally to Mona-Liza to give Shawn her own swagger." He then showed me this girl.

This girl was a doll, and not in the good way. She was plastic from head to toe. Her face had been cut and sewn until she looked like one of those urban dolls. Her body went from being healthily large to being sculpted like a soda bottle. One thing that threw me way off was her breasts. They went from being naturally large to being half their size and looking faker than a three dollar bill. Her hair was still someone else's but I'm sure that it used to belong to a old woman in India and not Mr. Ed.

"She's pretty sexy isn't she?" Chris asked me while he put away his phone, and muttered something underneath his breath. "Well, I have a lunch with Shawn. Come tonight so you can get a taste of the industry." I just nodded and stood up to try to leave his office as quickly as possible. I picked up Lupe and headed toward the door. This dream day started to feel like a nightmare as soon as I heard about Shawn. Would I end up like that? No. No, I won't. _No kid, you're right you'll end up much worse._

* * *

I waited for the clock to have its little hand on the four. That would mean Gwen was off and that I could call her. The long hand on the analog clock hanging on the wall of the hotel was slowly but surely moving. There was twenty minutes until she was done with her shift at the diner. I sighed. Maybe I could just rest my eyes for a second.

Closing my eyes for a second turned into me sleeping for four hours, and I woke up and it was almost eight. I cursed to myself and checked my phone; no new text messages. I sighed and got looked at the clock again. Maybe I should go to this party.

I walked over to my suitcase and pulled out a dark black hoodie, white dress shirt, and as Gwen called them my "Black Tie" jeans. Of course I would wear my classic checks. That was a damn nice outfit in my opinion. _Wow, you look like a GAP model. You know what that stands for __**G**__ay __**A**__ss_ _**P**__eople. Wear clothes with class like Humör, Versace, and Vivienne Westwood._

Just to freshen up, I hopped in the shower. Just as the hot water hit the tile bottom of the tub, my phone began to vibrate. I had a text message from Gwen, and little did I know that it held the most important news that I would ever receive.

_Damn straight._

_**

* * *

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An:

So who do y'all thing Shawn is? *Hint,Hint* She's a TDI character. Here's the real question who is the real life "celebrity" I based her on?

I really like this story and I have some twists and turns coming… XD Muwahahahaha!


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